


Nuevos Ricos

by ceralynn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceralynn/pseuds/ceralynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-WOTL. Hannibal takes Will to Spain to start their new life. Will has a half-buried grudge against the rich.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nuevos Ricos

Will's skin crawled as he entered their new home. El hogar; Hannibal had taught him some Spanish on the plane.

It didn't feel like home in any sense. The walls, las paredes, stood too far apart for any sense of belonging to grow between them. Comfort was refracted in the crystal chandeliers and stretched thin through long hallways

Will had always despised abundance.

Nothing here belonged to them. Not in the traditional sense. Yes, the deed to the property, to the structure upon it in which they stood, was legally in the name Hannibal had chosen for himself for their escape. But he had hardly worked for the wealth he used to acquire it, had only the good fortune of being born into it. Wealth that Will himself would soon be marrying into, was all but married into already. The thought earned a shudder down his spine.

"I don't like it."

"You will."

"Hannibal, it's too big," he pressed. "We're just the two of us. We have no reason to live in a house this size."

"Neither do a good deal of our neighbors." Hannibal's voice sounded from the kitchen and Will followed it. Already he was uncorking wine, pouring full red glasses and leaving Will sickly grateful it wasn't champagne. "For them, the pursuit of wealth is a reward all its own."

"I don't want this." Will ignored his glass. "I don't want to be a part of this, playing these games with rich weirdos. I barely fit in among normal people, let alone people like this."

Will gestured vaguely. Hannibal watched.

"You did not fit in among normal people," he corrected. Will took no issue with his bluntness. "And you never minded that very much. Are you sure there isn't something else about this arrangement that bothers you?"

Will looked away, having half a mind to chastise Hannibal for talking to him like a patient. He would have, if Hannibal wasn't right. Will was not governed by approval, but by fear, always fear. And now it was a fear of becoming the exact type of person he carried such a grudge against as a child; the harsh reminder that he had not deserved it then, that he would not be worthy of it now.

He felt Hannibal's hand, Hannibal's fingers interlacing with his own, heard his voice.

"It is an unfortunate reality of our situation that we must spend some time working in order to blend in," he began. "It is another unfortunate reality that the process of blending in requires a level of wealth an access that I know you feel would be put to better use elsewhere."

Hannibal paused, looking to his love's eyes seriously.

"But I have told you before: I do not care about the lives your generosity of spirit may save. I care about your life. And I will use whatever resources are at my disposal to give you the kind of life you deserve."

Hannibal paused again, allowing Will a moment of pensive thought. Then he squeezed his love's hand gently, tugging him forward, out of his thoughts, out of the kitchen.

"Come. I want to give you a proper tour. Every room."

"I don't want to think about how many rooms we have."

"I don't want that either, Will," he smiled. "I want you to think about how many dogs you can fit in these rooms."

Will never felt uncomfortable in the house again.


End file.
